Day 2120, another view from my window.

The dark air stayed behind

when I closed the door

of the kitchen that already smelled

like the meal I will make

~

I opened the door

to the living room where the sun

still lit

a warmth that slowly left

cold glass

the earth turns

~

I stared at it

the colors that are left

without feeling

the motion

~

the smell from the kitchen

lured me away

I can soon sit down

and rest

inside

 

Day 2119, looking for.

I woke up

walking between white trees

and black branches

~

my new world was chaos

trees everywhere

but here

~

I fell backward

stumbled

it turned

~

I saw the rows

suddenly

and the trees

for the first time

~

disorder was just a misstep

and a turn

away

~

am I now afraid

to move

is that what I thought

just before I fell asleep

again

Day 2118, slowly.

When I stand in the forest

dark

staring at the sky

the tops of the trees sharp

outlined

against the blue

of the leftover day

~

I see the moon

slowly

moving

reassuring me

for another tomorrow

Day 2115, view from a view from my window.

I love reading letters written by people I admire like this example written by Friedrich Nietzsche to his good friend Peter Gast; it humanizes these people from who you normally only read the best they can produce and not about their daily lives. This comes out of a book written in 1921 by Oscar Levy, who translated a lot of Nietzsche’s work when it first got known outside Germany. You can read the book on archive.org, this letters starts on on page 139.

NIETZSCHE TO PETER GAST.

Sils-MaIaria, end of August, 1881.

But this is splendid news, my dear friend! Above all that you should have finished! At the thought of· this first great achievement of your life, I feel indescribably happy and solemn ; I shall not fail to remember August 24, 1881 ! How things are progressing ! But as soon as I think of your work I am overcome by a Continue reading “Day 2115, view from a view from my window.”

Day 2114, Drive.

The scenery was white

like on a grey day

~

it was not cold

but there was still snow

on some of the trees

~

and the sun just left

but did not forget

to set the tone

for the past day

~

I looked at it

for a moment

 

Day 2111, from my window 11.

The world is slowly turning, but I can still see the remainder of this beautiful sunset when I look over my shoulder. 

Essays, Of custom, and that we should not easily change a law received.

“My perfumed doublet gratifies my own smelling at first; but after I have worn it three days together, ’tis only pleasing to the bystanders. This is yet more strange, that custom, notwithstanding long intermissions and intervals, should yet have the power to unite and establish the effect of its impressions upon our senses, as is manifest in such as live near unto steeples and the frequent noise of the bells. I myself lie at home in a tower, where every morning and evening a very great bell rings out the Ave Maria: the noise shakes my very tower, and at first seemed insupportable to me; but I am so used to it, that I hear it without any manner of offense, and often without awaking at it.”

Michel de Montaigne

 

Day 2110, from my window 9.

Most people’s inner lives are hidden behind a mist, like the trees in this picture. We all have lost people we love in our lives, and for me, it has always been emotional, not only for the fact that you can never speak with them again but more so for all the stories that are gone, buried with them.

Because life to me is a relatively predictable event, I like to embellish my own history and spin a propper story for me to remember and give life some ground and meaning. We probably all do that one way or another. When my grandmother died, she took with her a whole life of experiences, and we were left with only hints to them; her life story was gone. It made me sad that life made her keep all these stories to herself and sad that I never properly tried to talk to her about it. Because, I ask you: what is life but just a few great moments and emotions you experience. My grandmother’s most significant moments and wisdom are forever gone, and I wished she had shared them so they could live on in me and others.

I see value in a life that makes sense and does not just pass by, as Socrates said years ago: “an unexamined life is not worth living.” An “examined” life can be told in a few sentences and given as a gift to your loved ones when your time has come.

Day 2109, from my window 7.

Another year is almost over, and the funny thing is, you don’t have to do anything for it; it’s a straight line no matter what happened on the sides of that road.

Day 2108, from my window 6.

Like a branch that finds its way

going where the sun is

in the evening

in de morning

tomorrow

 

only the sun

the light

justify

makes sense

looking down

 

to your branch

a past

your reason

a truth

a reach

for light

Day 2107, from my window 5.

The camera used as an art tool can make the dark darker and the light lighter. Is it more interesting than the real world? Or true? 

“As I work at my drawings, day after day, what seemed unattainable before is now gradually becoming possible. Slowly, I’m learning to observe and measure. I don’t stand quite so helpless before nature any longer.”
Vincent van Gogh 

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